


Belle of the Ball | Tamaki x reader | OHSHC

by Zhave



Category: Ouran High School Host Club
Genre: Angst, F/M, Female Reader, Gen, M/M, Multi, Tamaki - Freeform, host club, male reader - Freeform, ohshc, x Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 16:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30108990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zhave/pseuds/Zhave
Summary: Tamaki sets out to entertain his most stubborn guest yet, though this meeting becomes much more personal than he intended.
Relationships: Suoh Tamaki/Reader
Kudos: 5





	Belle of the Ball | Tamaki x reader | OHSHC

Sparing any expense was something you were certain the Host Club of Ouran High School knew nothing of. The once barren music room had become the cauldron of Suoh Tamaki and his cohorts, conjuring many a delightful scene as if it were magic. 

Tonight was no different as you looked about the brightly lit room newly transformed once more. A baroque quartet played on the far side, surrounded by white and blue silks that wove their way upwards between the brass chandeliers that cast a warm honey glow onto the floor. Tables were scattered about the room, but many lay dormant as girls of all status and look gathered around specific spots in the room. 

You knew the cream-colored French settee against the wall was where the twins, Hikaru and Karou Hitachiin, lounged. Through the crowd, their bright auburn hair stood out, slicked back away from their faces to allow a view of their expression, an expression that foretold the boredom of all within the room except each other. You looked away as one of them, you couldn’t tell them apart, raised an affectionate hand to the others cheek and leaned forward. 

You didn’t see what they did, but the sound of giddy gasps filled the air. 

Seated not far from you was Honey and Mori, the opposites that made many hearts melt. Whereas Honey was warm and open with his heart, Mori remained icy and unflinching towards anything other than Honey. It was an uncanny admiration, but nothing like the twins, thank the heavens. 

“These came from Spain! They’re said to taste like salty caramel normally, but when you’re with someone you love they become so sweet,” Honey exclaimed, gesturing excitedly towards a platter of golden-colored delicacies shaped like roses. 

“Honey Senpai! May I try one,” girls asked, summoning their poutiest faces towards the young man. 

You could only see the tousled waves of blond hair from above the back of his chair, but you knew as he slid one of the sweets into his mouth that his face dissolved into a look of bliss. A look that was quickly mirrored by the many girls around him as they looked upon him. 

“Mori, try one!”

The platter of sweets was now in front of Mori and you watched as the stoic and icy boy slowly raised one to his mouth at his friend’s request. Like many within the school, Mori had been raised a noble with mannerisms to accompany them. The way he ate the sweet, by sliding it onto his tongue first and chewing it with a quiet air was evidence of it. As he swallowed, the girls held their breath, and then he smiled - sending many of his clients swooning to the crystal-covered floor. 

“Tsk,” you said, looking away with a shake of your head. 

You had entered the Host Club’s domain many times before, and you never made such an effort to make a fool of yourself as they did now. (Not anymore at least.) 

Though it was admittedly entertaining nonetheless because you did not come for these boys, but instead for the sight of exaggerated admiration by their clientele. None of the reality shows or dramas on tv could relate to the amount of kissing-up that happened here. 

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

You turned and locked gazes with a pair of wide brown eyes, partially obscured by neatly cut brunette hair. Haruhi Fujioka had come once again to greet you without fail. 

“Yes. As always Tamaki has outdone himself.”

“Is that so,” Haruhi queried. 

Of all the boys you had found him most easy to be around. There was no pompous air about him, no role he played like an actor, no feeling as if he expected you to swoon before him. Of them all, Haruhi was the only one you felt as if you could truly speak freely with.

“You sound as if you do not believe me,” you said, a bit amused. 

“It is not that I assure you,” Haruhi said with a chuckle as he seated himself across from you. His stature was more slender than the others, his shoulders not broad enough to reach beyond the chair’s sides as Mori’s did. “It is only that I rarely hear you compliment Tamaki for his work.”

“Well if it is so strange then I will not do it again,” you responded with a light laugh, mirrored by Haruhi. “In seriousness, the Winter Palace of Russia is my favorite place I’ve ever been to. I just felt a little . . . happy to see its beauty replicated.”

“Hm,” was all Haruhi said. “He did say it would be for a special someone, this theme that is. Could he have meant you?”

You scoffed as Haruhi laughed at his teasing. 

“Certainly not, it is nothing more than coincidence.” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure. This is a room of beauty and admirers, and you may have been the lucky one to catch the Host’s favor today.”

“Tsk. A snowball has a better chance of gaining favor in hell,” you said with a raised chin. “I won’t be made a spectacle of by Tamaki’s shameless flirting-“

“Did someone say spectacle?”

Suddenly, a figure clad in white and gold cast themselves dramatically within your lap. The smell of cinnamon and cloves filled the air around you, and you felt a tickle along your neck as a head of golden curls nestled under your chin.

Between one moment and the next, you found yourself cradling Suoh Tamaki, host and self-proclaimed Tsar of tonight’s ball. 

His arms slid around your neck carefully, pulling your face down towards his own. His eyes were a startling shade of blue, near violet up close. His hair . . . it was much lighter, so much more golden than it looked when you normally saw him across the room. 

It was when your eyes drifted down to his lips that you tore your gaze away finally, seeing Haruhi slip away from the table and past him . . . the eyes of nearly every girl now locked on you. 

“Y/N,” you heard him say. 

He spoke, but it seemed so far away. You couldn’t hear him, or anyone else in the room as a silent roar awoke in your ears and your heart beat fast and treacherously within your chest like a caged bird desperate for escape. You felt as if you stood within the shadow of a wave, ready to crash atop of you. 

Tamaki continued to ramble as you barely disguised your trembling, your shock. 

“-so will the Belle of tonight’s ball allow me to have this dance . . . are you alright?”

You had to leave. You couldn’t allow this to drag out, not in front of so many peering eyes. Not again. 

Your body suddenly jerked, and before you knew it, you and Tamaki tumbled from the chair and to the floor. If Tamaki’s previous declaration had not drawn everyone’s attention, the clattering of wood on the marble floor certainly did now. 

A spike of pain shot up your arm, as you struggled to sit up. Haruhi had rushed to your side and began to pull you from the room as Tamaki looked on in surprise from the floor still. 

. . . 

“What happened back there?”

“It was nothing.”

Haruhi looked unconvinced but did not press. He had taken you to one of the infirmaries within the school, where the smell of chemicals and the metallic scent of blood lingered faintly in the air. 

The nurse had already left, but not without giving you a bag of ice for your arm and a bandage on your forehead for where your skin had split to reveal scarlet red blood. It still soaked a bit through the bandage, but Haruhi had assured you that the flow had begun to slow. 

“He got carried away again,” Haruhi said absently. His brow was furrowed and his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. “I thought I told him about crossing boundaries-”

“Your voice is so much lighter than the other boys . . .,” you said suddenly. 

Haruhi turned to you, brows raised in surprise as heat pooled into your cheeks. Perhaps the fall had rattled something within your head, as you had not meant to say such a thing aloud. 

“I-,” Haruhi began but paused as the nurse entered once more. 

“Y/N, your driver has arrived.” 

You flashed a grateful smile towards the nurse for the interruption and hurried from the infirmary with a quick wave to Haruhi. The boy stood there perplexed but waved back nonetheless. 

Foolish. Your decision to go back to the Host Club had been foolish. 

. . . 

The drive home had been mercifully swift and silent. 

Your parents were not home once again, still attending to business matters in whatever far-off place had called to them at the moment. You were used to it, being left alone within the small manor with only the staff for company. The Tudor-style manor sat within the affluent wooded area of the city that many of the other Ouran students called home. Its interior was all polished wood and dark drapery, akin to the many haunts you read of within regency novels. 

By sunset, you had retired to your bed with a plate of strawberry scones and an ice pack for the night. It was a blissful moment of distraction from the memories of only last year. When your first display of embarrassment had occurred within that music room. 

You had wanted to be like the others. Wanted to see Tamaki and his Host Club, and had wanted to swoon and tell tale of his beauty to the other girls as they often did outside of class. You had been new there, and all too eager to impress others in exchange for a possible friendship. 

You had done everything right, even the swoon when Tamaki flashed that seraphic smile of his. Only, you had not moved far enough away from the refreshments table. During your mock swoon, you had snatched the cloth from the table and sent a bowl of punch sailing down right after you towards the floor. 

You believed Tamaki had reached for you, but you had already scrambled from the floor and out the room soaked to the bone. 

Tale had spread of course, but not the one you wanted. And soon, you had found yourself the source of laughter from across Ouran High School. It took seven months for you to show your face once again within the club, and even then you had stuck to the sidelines with only Haruhi occasionally obliging his company. 

You had been in the middle of nibbling on a scone before you had finally fallen asleep. And then a rap happened across your widow. 

And then another. 

You rose from the bed, careful of your arm, and crossed to the other side of the room. Moonlight spilled through the glass of the window, the same color as a pale blue iris flower. 

You had been three steps away from the window when suddenly, a shadow appeared in the glass and a figure tumbled through the window before you could step back. 

Long gangly limbs and dark clothing fell to your bedroom floor, and from underneath a hood you swore you saw blonde hair-

“Tamaki!”

He looked up at you from the floor sheepishly, his cheeks flushed with color from the cold and likely embarrassment as well. 

“Pardon the intrusion. It seems we have a habit of meeting each other from the ground,” he said with a chuckle. 

You grimaced as a reply. 

“Too soon?”

“Why have you come through my window like some lowly burglar,” you demanded. 

“Well your bedroom was too far away to hear the front door and I doubt the servants would let me up here,” Tamaki said. “That and I thought this would be way more entertaining! Like Romeo sneaking to Juliet, only . . . it could’ve been a bit more graceful-”

“This isn’t the Host Club where you can live out whatever deviant fantasy you want,” you interrupted. “You just broke into my house.” 

“When you put it like that I sound like a criminal.” 

Your mouth drew into a thin line as your eyebrows shot into the air for an accusatory look. 

“Ok, maybe what I’m doing is criminal. But I promise it’s for a noble deed.”

“And that would be?”

Tamaki rose from the floor and stood with his back straight, rising a head taller than you. His hood had fallen from his head and in the moonlight, you could see his blonde hair once again, even the small curls nestled against the nape of his neck. 

“A dance from yours truly of course.”

An indignant sound rose from the back of your throat as you crossed your arms. 

“Or . . . not?”

“No, I don’t want to dance. I want you gone before the patrol dogs sniff you out and we’re both in trouble.”

You saw hesitation within him then, in the way his shoulders stiffened. “Patrol dogs? You’re bluffing.” 

“Do you really want to stay and risk finding out,” you teased. 

You were surprised when Tamaki crossed his own arms and matched your gaze, his violet eyes bearing into yours. “Maybe I do.”

Stubborn and persistent. You forgot how much of those things he could be when he really wanted something. But what could he want from you so late in the night, alone? 

You had embarrassed yourself in front of him twice before already. Was he here to take amusement in watching you blunder once more, to gossip about you at school like the others? 

You found that your tone had taken on a venomous touch as you spoke again. “Leave Tamaki. This is the last time I will tell you.” 

That stubborn fire in his eyes remained. Until he sighed and uncrossed his arms. 

“I only wished to help.” 

“I do not need your help.” 

Tamaki walked silently back to the window, his head bowed. The moonlight caught within his hair, the strands shimmering like fireflies caught in a jar. The small sliver of his face that you could glimpse were his lidded eyes that seemed to hold disappointment within them. 

Then a spike of pain rose up your arm once again. You had forgotten the ice pack on the bed. You winced as a hiss escaped you, cradling the sore spot there. 

Tamaki had paused before the window, watching you carefully. 

“Y/N, are you alright?”

You turned from him and moved towards the bed. “Yes . . . no.” 

You grabbed the ice pack from the tangle of blankets and turned to see Tamaki crossing the floor after you. 

“Here let me-,” he began, his hand outstretched.

“No, I can handle it.”

“I took a therapy class with Kyoya, I can help you.”

“Why do you care so much about helping,” you snapped. 

Tamaki stopped advancing, his lips parting as if to speak only to close again. You were frustrated, but you felt as if you had crossed a line. From the brief pained look that crossed his face, it felt as if you had perhaps struck him. And then he smiled, that same friendly smile. 

“I just want to see others happy,” he replied simply. 

You didn’t have it in you to fight him, to contest his good will anymore, to see that pained expression . . . Wordlessly, you handed him the ice pack and sat on the edge of the bed, gritting your teeth as he sat next to you. 

His hands lingered at the edge of the fabric where your sleeve ended. 

“May I,” he asked in a low voice. You only nodded. 

A small shiver raced up your spine as the ice pack laid upon your arm once again, chilling it to the bone and raising goose flesh across your skin. Tamaki’s touch was light and feathery, careful of touching your skin in any way you might not approve of. 

“I’m certain Haruhi told you that the ball was for you.” 

“He may have hinted at it.” 

You glimpsed the corner of his mouth twitched upward. 

“What?”

“Hm,” Tamaki said looking up. “Ah, nothing. I’ll let him tell you. Anyways, I learned that you lived in Russia for a time, so I wanted to surprise you with something that may remind you of there.

“Was I right,” he asked. 

Your eyes flickered to his, the startling violet color making your heart flutter a bit. You looked away hurriedly. “Yes. It . . . it was like what I remembered.” 

“I’m glad to hear it. You didn’t show to the music room for a time after the first . . . incident so I became worried. And then you showed up again,” Tamaki said low as if passing on a secret. “I made the Host Club to provide a getaway for people. And sometimes that includes going out of the way to make sure others enjoy themselves to the fullest. I wanted you to feel as if you were a Russian princess for the day.” 

“Oh,” was all you could muster. 

“If that was out of your comfort zone, then I apologize for overstepping.” 

Silence hung in the air between the both of you for a while, until it was broken by a nearly whispered question. 

“Why’re you so nice to me?”

Tamaki looked up at you. 

“I’m nice to everyone.”

“No, I mean . . . I have been rude and unceremonious these past few months. I tried to use you to appeal to the others and made a fool of myself. And I blamed you for it. . .”

“So all this time you hated me,” Tamaki mumbled. 

“I didn’t hate you.” 

“You don’t have to hide the fact, I’m used to it.”

You looked up at him in surprise. “You’re used to people hating you? Oh right, the club.”

“It’s not because of the club,” he said. 

“Then why would anyone hate you? You can be annoying sometimes yeah, but no one hates you for that. A lot of the girls find it endearing.” 

Tamaki chuckled. “You’re surprisingly blunt sometimes.” 

Heat rose to your cheeks again. Like everyone in Ouran, you had heard tale of the many escapades of Suoh Tamaki. They had been numerous enough and quite vivid to the point that you thought you knew all there was to know about him. That boy you had crafted within your mind with those tales, he was not the same one that was seated beside you now. 

“Tamaki-senpai, you’re kind and considerate and I really do not deserve the patience you’re giving me right now. You’re everything like the romantic heroes you claim to be and more. Nothing anyone says will change that,” you say abruptly. 

A low laugh rumbled in Tamaki’s chest, and his golden curls fell into his eyes as he ducked his head.

“I came to comfort you, and now it is you who is comforting me,” he said, tilting his head to the side. “I appreciate your words. They mean more to me than you think.”

“Who made you believe such a thing anyway,” you asked quietly. 

He sighed through his nose. “It’s complicated. Family stuff. Nothing we need discuss while it's late and I am currently breaking into your quite lovely home.” 

Family stuff. Family often was complicated, and yours was no different. But for Tamaki, you felt his situation was quite different, more precarious than your own. It was evident within the shadows in his eyes and his slightly slumped shoulders that he did not want to delve into it, and you would not press him too far.

“I think I get it now.”

Tamaki raised an eyebrow. 

“You’re a lover. Not like the flirtatious kind I thought you were. You radiate love and loyalty all around you to make up for what you may not have yourself. To fill a void left by your family. You make yourself happy by making others happy.” 

He chuckled. “That bluntness again.” 

You felt as if a fire had been kindled within your stomach, the heat rising to make your heart beat and race in your chest. But you would not stop. The feeling, this strange need had grown around you like a vine, twining through your bones and around your heart. It was ready to bloom, and it would need you to be bold. 

“Tamaki-senpai?”

“Yes?”

“Can I be the one to make you happy? You don’t need to do anything. I’ll do all the work.” 

“And how will you do that,” he asked. 

You hadn’t thought that far it seemed, coming up short with an answer. “Well, what do you want? You tried to give me the ball. So I want to give you something.”

He wavered before answering. The talkative Tamaki, speechless for once. His eyes darted away, and then back to you, and for a second you swore they fluttered down towards your lips. 

You knew what he wanted as you took the hand that held the ice pack and gripped it within your own. Your other hand found the collar of his shirt, before sliding up to the smooth column of his neck. His skin was flushed with heat, and your mind seemed to lose all sense as you leaned in. 

He tasted sweet, like sugar and red wine. The taste and feel of him filled you as he deepened the kiss, carefully maneuvering to close the distance between the two of you. Your hands explored each other, his finding purchase at the small of your back and tangled within your hair. Your own still resided on his neck, but the other had weaseled its way under the hem of his shirt to feel the warm skin underneath. You felt the gasp of air on your lips as he reacted to your touch.

“Stay for the night,” you breathed, as you broke away. 

His eyes, veiled partially by his lashes, seemed aflame in the darkness as he gazed at you. His lips remained parted and moist, ready to explore you again should you bid it. 

“What of those patrol dogs,” he teased. 

“You knew they were a lie,” you said. 

He was thoughtful for a second. “Would it be a lie if you said you loved me?”

The question felt like kindling, making the flame within you burn hotter. You were certain your cheeks were as flushed red as the strawberries within your discarded scones, but you did not care as you said:

“No. It wouldn’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe I’ll write more OHSHC fics. . . Comments welcome and thanks for reading!


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